Exercise in Dar es Salaam

I thought exercising in Accra was rough. Running in Dar should be called adventure racing. It is hot and very interesting. I was staying at a hotel in the city centre and this meant that I had to run for 2 kilometres through city traffic before getting into the quieter sea side roads. When I use the word quieter, I mean that there were only about 1000 cars stuck in the daily coast road traffic jam.

The adventure racing means that I get to dodge cars, people, bicycles, push carts, trucks, busses and potholes. It is a whole heap of run and adds a tactical element to running. Besides the tacticle aspect, the locals are all shocked to see this mad Mzungu running in the streets. 98% of the population are forced to walk everywhere and to see somebody willingly wasting energy seems a little senseless! I run a little faster to show off - it is kind of fun!



Nothing like push ups with a view! This particular view over Dar (from one of the tallest buildings there - 12 floors) is rather special!

The sun sets behind one of the mosques and the local immam wakes us every morning just after 5 for our daily prayers (see tower in middle of picture)!

Ah Africa!

The Men in my Life

I was struck this morning by the number of deep male friendships that I have within my life. Now as you read this, you may already be thinking ‘weirdo’. This even though our society is very tolerant of homosexual relationships, the very thought of deep heterosexual relationships would send most chaps running a mile.

Yet in my life I have been blessed with a large number of these friends and each of them fills gaps in my life that I honesty never knew I had. Having one deep mate is a blessing but to have a whole heap is just wonderful. These are people who stand by your side no matter what and you know that they will always be there for you. I like that. It gives me a serious bit of confidence that I can do this life thing and I can do it well on my terms!

And best of all I write this and still feel like a man! Now I am going to write something to make all you real men out there cringe....

To you dudes – love you all!

The Evil Ego Inside

You have heard said and repeated many times. The root of all evil is money! Perhaps you have been on the defensive because you have a little money. You have had to say things like no, life requires balance, and one needs money to live, or perhaps something far more creative than those two examples.

I was reading a most inspirational book about a Catholic priest called Padre Pio. An incredibly holy man blessed with many gifts including stigmata, being in two places at once, being able to read minds and look into the future. He once asked the following question, “Do you know what evil is called?” Those in the vicinity gave all of the usual answers and names but he responded quite surprisingly by saying, “It is called I, and we need to stab it each time it appears, because it never dies!”

Hello, there is a revelation, evil is the ‘I’ within me?

That may sound a little harsh but he was not the only religious person to advance this idea. St Thomas Aquinas writing on the origin of moral evil stated that “egoism, that is the disorderly love of oneself is the cause of all sin”. St Catherine of Siena said “Love of oneself, which removes charity and delight, is the beginning and foundation of all evil”.


One does not have to think too hard or too far to understand that egos are cause for much of the world’s misery. History includes countless stories that talk to the obsessions of mad men and the countless hordes that have followed them.

My question to myself is how much misery do I cause in this life as a result of my ego and my fixation with myself and what I want?

Ah what a stupid question, I am never wrong!

Hockey in Franschoek

Aaah, Saturday morning, a time of glorious hedonism. The sleep in! In my house, that means staying in bed till 06h40 instead of 06h30. You see, at precisely 06h29 every morning, bucket loads of adrenaline are released directly into my children’s bloodstreams.

But on a Saturday, there are a beautiful ten extra minutes that are all ours! Mainly due to the understanding that failure to comply is punishable with much pain and possibly even death!

This particular Saturday morning my wife and I were up long before the children mainly because we have a very rude alarm clock. My oldest son also had four matches to play in a hockey festival. It was our pleasure to awaken both sleeping boys before their morning adrenal dose. And so we found ourselves on the road as dawn cracked and then shivering on the side of a hockey field in Franschoek in no time at all!

There were kids everywhere. Small kids, smart kids with two jerseys, big kids, skinny kids, and each one with a stick in their hands. Some were playing, some kicking, some rolling in pain, some just screaming in triumph and others crying in defeat. Then there were the kids playing hockey. The words wild and dangerous don’t really sum up the occasion very well!

Sticks flew in gusty swings, turf gave way in clumps and violence boiled just below the surface. Heads bobbed and wove, completely oblivious to the wild whooshes whipping by their cute little ears. By some divine grace the games ended, tears were wiped away and the chaos resumed.



The hockey thoroughly exhausted the parents but for the children it was only the beginning. There was nothing to do but to beat a hasty retreat to a wine cellar in order to pep up those flagging parental spirits. Our cars had hardly stopped before an impromptu soccer match had begun upon the magnificently manicured lawns. With wine in hand we waited patiently under the splendour of the Franschoek mountains for the latest dose of energy to ebb before thinking of making a move.

Poor us!

Accra in Photographs

I often do not see the nicest part of cities as my job requires me to visit some of the poorest out there, and make sure that they are drinking the right product - hmm (an ethical and moral dilema in there that I still need to sort out)!!

Here is a quick collage of a couple of interesting aspects of a shanty town built around a working railway line. These people were real friendly BUT I still took all of these pics as shots from the waist, so as not to offend!!



While drinking a Peroni at Rhapsodies in Accra and looking out of their big picture windows, I had this thought that the view was exactly the same as if I was in Rhapsodies in Centurion (Pretoria, capital city of South Africa) except for the fact that the cars were on the wrong side of the road!!! I was seiously impressed by this town!!

HOT IN ACCRA

This morning began bright and early. The only thing is nobody told the sun and even though it was not yet doing its thing, it was hot and humid. My host here in Accra, an old school mate of mine, decided I needed to experience the joy of exercise in an outdoor sauna. And so at 05h45 in the morning I was preparing for a run.

Warming up in this place is an activity to be severely frowned upon. More than anything else, I needed to cool down! And I was yet to take my first step.

I have recently spent a good deal of time pounding the streets of Dar es Salaam. It is hot there too and I had hoped that my time in the sun there would have acclimatised me for anything. I was wrong!

After three steps, perhaps it was four, my body started to respond. There could be no doubt that the lovely houses and well maintained roads had nothing to do with it. Actually Accra was a revelation to me. It is for the most part a well kept and orderly town. Everything works from traffic lights to the rules of the road. That is apart from the police officer who climbed into our car the other day. He told the driver that he was under arrest for a serious traffic violation. Yes, I remember now, we turned left! After extracting the princely sum of four dollars from the driver, he proceeded to ask me for his present from South Africa. While fiddling with my camera, I replied that I would happily take his photo, and mail it to him. He did not seem keen to take me up on the offer. This I deduced from the fact that he suddenly vanished and reappeared down the block moving at a hectic pace. Strangely this incident did little to dampen my surprise and wonder at this West African country. Most of it was the people here that are so friendly and helpful that they put me to shame!

But I digress.

It was definitely after step number three and just before step number four that my face grew intensely hot. It felt like my brain was sending signals through my body like an old ship siren warning of imminent disaster. By step six, I was glowing. A meltdown was inevitable! Step ten saw great big shiny drops of sweat extrude through my pores, en masse. Then slowly at first they started to move, gathering speed and momentum as they joined other streams, forming great rivers, torrents really, that gushed to the floor.

About five kilograms lighter and much faster on my feet, we arrived back at the hotel. Thankfully I had had the foresight to set my air conditioner to its lowest setting. Changing from my wet kit into my swimming costume was an irony in itself.

And so there I was totally inspired for the day and raring to go. Who would have thought that an outdoor sauna could have had such a positive effect on me?

Just as well it is the middle of winter here!

So here I am on another plane ordering the same thing I always order. A Grapetiser and a still water. I sit back and wait patiently for my fantastic aeroplane lunch to arrive. I am apprehensive as an aeroplane breakfast was not too long ago on another almost forgotten plane. As I sit here and contemplate the mysteries of my life I realise that I have much to be thankful for. The majority of people on this continent have never flown on a plane before. Yet here I am grumpy about this company bus! Even more people subsist on just one meal a day. I am sitting here anticipating my second and know without a shadow of a doubt, there will be a third.

With the exciting lunch dishes out of my way, I am free to return my attention to the important aspects of my travel. What on earth to do with myself! My brain is not on the right wavelength to even pretend that I can do some work. I have no inclination to strike up a conversation with anyone. So back to musing, one of my favourite past times!

At least this plane is taking me home. Home is a wonderful place that I love to inhabit. And in my home is my wonderful wife and children. Hopefully, they are all eagerly waiting for my homecoming with open arms and hugs on the ready. I must be extremely blessed as I actually want to spend time with these people. I ache with all of my being to be near them and to enjoy life with them. Sadly, I don’t think that this is the same for most people in the world.

Actually, I have it all. A heap of someones love me dearly and that is a gift of priceless proportions. No matter where I am in the world, I will have this surety that they are out there missing me too. It brings a whole new meaning to making the most of the time that I have with those around me.

Hmmm, I think I will order a second plane lunch and then scare the passenger next to me with some unsolicited chat!

I have not been able to upload any photographs for some time due to a conflict on my PC. BUT that is now history and so I thought I would share one or two things.

Here are 2 star trails that I attempted - Sutherland is a special place in that the sky is incredibly clear (hence why there are so many observatories here), which makes for dramatic star trails. If you have never seen a star trail, this is a long exposure of a point in the sky and the lines of light are really single stars but look like lines due to the earth turning. Here you can actually see the point about which the earth is turning, i.e. the south pole.





This is the SALT observatory - the biggest in the world (right here in SA).



This one, you may guess, but is a picture of a farm dam at sunset! I like!

Working in another country makes one take a long hard look at the customs that you take for granted. Take for instance driving in Dar es Salaam. It is nothing like driving back home in South Africa. The best way to describe it is that it is like driving a dodgem car and best you dodge! The chief rule here is ‘he who pushes his or her way in first, goes’. If you don’t push, you don’t go. Certainly not a place to hire a car if you suffer from road rage!

OK, so driving is not really a cultural issue. It is of course rather difficult to ask a local about the things that would offend them most, without of course offending them! The thing is that even if someone did give me a list, I probably would get a different list from someone else. It seems rather obvious that not everyone would have the same list but you then again you would expect to find some similarities.

I heard someone telling a story about a boyfriend coming over to visit. Her mother was horribly offended by the fact that this ‘boy’ did not bother to remove his cap when inside. She was heard to ask how he could be so arrogant as to think that her roof would leak on his head! I heard another story of a girl at a new boyfriend’s house. She was offered a cup of tea. Not liking milk in her tea, she asked her boyfriend to ask his mother to make hers black. The mother did so and as she handed it over, she said, ‘Here is your black tea, as a guest in my house, you should take it as it comes’.

Aish! These are people who lived in the same neighbourhood! Surely one would think that they would have had the same sensibilities and yet they did not. Funny that humans are so sensitive about such silly things.

Perhaps we need to be looking well beyond the obvious in people’s behaviour to the deeper substance that is really the frightened, lonely person inside.

Or perhaps we should just be nice and learn to say sorry in 46 different languages, just in case!